


Yankee Doodle

by TheSilverPhoenix



Series: History Has Its Eyes On You [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: American History, Chibi America (Hetalia), Colonial America, French Indian War, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Nyotalia, Seven Years' War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23164645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverPhoenix/pseuds/TheSilverPhoenix
Summary: Its 1754 and war has broken out on the American Continent. Luckily, America has a world power on her side.
Series: History Has Its Eyes On You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665142
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. A Message

**Author's Note:**

> “Yankee Doodle went to town / A-riding on a pony / He stuck a feather in his hat / And called it macaroni / Yankee Doodle, keep it up / Yankee Doodle dandy / Mind the music and the step / and with the girls be handy!” - ‘Yankee Doodle’, First Chorus

_July 3rd, 1754_

If there was one thing America was absolutely sure of, it was that this wasn’t her fault. If anything it was France’s. France was the one who had insisted the Ohio Valley was her’s and it just...wasn’t. America wasn’t sure whose it was, but it definitely wasn’t France’s. That territory was very much a gray area and America knew that several of her settlers had claimed ownership of the land, along with, now, France. If anything, her people had just been trying to help.

Fat lot of good that did.

Now America sat on a stool in front of Miss Jennifer and tried not to whimper as the other woman brushed the long hairs out of her face and cleaned the small cut on her hairline. She’d managed to convince her temporary caretaker that she’d cut herself while she had been playing outside, remembering England’s warning about keeping their nature a secret from even the most trusted of humans. It was small and painless, but Miss Jennifer had sat her firmly on the stool while she disinfected it. America knew it would be gone by lunchtime.

The headache drumming in the back of her head was a different story.

America had never been in a war, not really, but for some reason she could tell that one was coming. Something in the air had changed drastically and she had a sneaking suspicion that the peace party she’d sent to warn off the French hadn’t exactly been peaceful. 

It scared her. She didn’t want people to die, but at the same time she couldn’t let France just walk all over her. She hadn’t told Miss Jennifer about her headache - it wasn’t as if she could do anything about it anyway and it wasn’t really that bad. Big countries got headaches all the time and America wanted to be a big country. Like England.

She could handle the French by herself and then England would be proud of her.

“There you go dear,” Miss Jennifer finally said, releasing the young colony from her grasp. Immediately, America was out of the stool and gone, itching to finally get out of the Virginia home England had built so long ago and into the summer-time air of the Virginia countryside. “Do me careful, Miss Jones!”

America simply ran out with a carefree laugh and a wide smile.

The nearest town to the house was Jamestown and it had been there since before America could remember. Even before she’d met England. And despite it being miles away, America found no trouble getting there. Miss Jennifer insisted to America that it was an impossible feat, for a small, six-year-old to travel all that way and back in the time that she did, but America managed. She never seemed to have a problem getting anywhere in the colonies when she wanted.

Jamestown was booming when she got there. People from all around milled about their daily lives - men and women strolled leisurely through the streets, workers lifted loads and scribbled notes, children played games and avoided important-looking carriages that traveled down the cobbled streets. It was so alive and America could feel all of it - practically as naturally as breathing. America’s favorite part of the town, the harbor, was filled with ships and goods from across the sea. All around, people attempted to sell their wares, either to the sailors or the civilians that had come to the market.

America could see all of the colorful fruits in the stalls that line the streets and the smell of fresh bread waved through the air. Her stomach growled at her.

“Excuse me, sir,” she said, approaching one of the stalls and tugging on the vendor’s coattails without hesitance. People were always nice to her, so she didn’t have any reason to fear.

The man, who looked kind enough, turned around, looked down at her, and kneeled down with a smile. “What can I do for ya, lass?”

“May I have a peach?” America asked him politely - dutifully remembering the manners England had taught her. She reached into one of her pockets and fished out two shillings to pay him.

“Why of course!” the vendor said with a chuckle. The man took her money and handed her a peach in return. “Enjoy, lass!”

“Thank you!” the colony said with a brilliant smile, running off before the man could say anything else.

America made her way through the town and ended up resting underneath a small tree, a perfect view of the harbor stretching out before her. America always liked watching the ships, taking joy in spotting them on the horizon and wondering where it came from and what it was holding as it grew closer and closer to port. The possibilities were nearly endless and always exciting. She watched as ships came and went, munching on the fresh peach she’d gotten from the market. Most of the ships coming in were English, easily spotted by the brilliant red, white, and blue colored flags unfurled on the masts. America wondered vaguely if one of them could be carrying England. The large, intimidating ships that were entering the harbor flying Britain's flag could easily be transporting her.

But no, England would’ve told her if she was going to visit. She always at least wrote first.

With a sigh, America finished her peach, dug a hole in the ground, and placed the pit of the peach in the ground. She hoped that, one day, the pit would grow into a big, strong tree and produce its own peaches. Maybe she would even show England.

After she’d properly covered the peach pit, America headed back home, headache completely forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title Origin: ‘Yankee Doodle’ was a song sung by the British during the Seven Years War describing how poorly equipped and trained the colonial militia was. It became America’s first patriotic song after the Revolution.
> 
> In late 1753, the Virginia colony sent a message with Major George Washington to the French occupying the Ohio Valley to leave. The French, who rejected the claim, were then defeated in a surprise attack. However, Washington’s troops retreated and built Fort Necessity, of which the French would later take on July 3, 1754.
> 
> After what feels like absolutely FOREVER, I have finally kicked myself in the butt and started to rewrite my historical Hetalia series. I hope that you all enjoy!
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://silverphoenixwrites.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sil_phoenix), and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/silverphoenix)!


	2. Join or Die

_July 10th, 1754_

America could feel a tugging in her stomach and she wasn’t sure what it was.

It was a weird feeling, almost frighteningly so, but she couldn’t tell Miss Jennifer about it because she was positive it had something to do with her people. And England wasn’t around for her to ask. Maybe it had something to do with the cut she’d gotten a few days ago?

Hmmmm, if that was the case, America should be there. Right? England was always there when her people had important meetings. That’s why she was gone so much. It only made sense that America would have to be there too. Maybe they’d need her help! Now America _had_ to go.

Determined not to fail, America set out one Wednesday morning to find the source of the tug with nothing more than a small bag of food thrown over her shoulder. Hopefully, Miss Jennifer wouldn’t miss her too much while she was gone. After a short walk, much closer than America had expected the tug to be, America found herself in Albany, New York. Okay, so it was actually a lot further than she thought. Oops.

Oh, well, she was sure she’d manage to find her way back.

The colony made her way through the city, unsure of her surroundings but knowing that someone, somewhere, needed her help.

“Excuse me, young lady,” a voice addressed her. America turned around and was met with a middle-aged man held up by a walking cane. He looked ordinary, but something in the back of America’s mind screamed the man’s importance. “Are you lost?”

“No,” America replied stubbornly, refusing to admit that she had no idea what exactly she was looking for. Then, she was reminded of something England had told her once. “I’m always exactly where I need to be.”

The man chuckled and, for some reason, America felt proud about that.

“Very clever,” the man told her, giving her a smile. He extended a hand to her. “I am Benjamin Franklin.”

America took the man’s hand firmly, careful not to completely shatter it like she had when she was younger. She had to learn to control her strength, England had said, and not go throwing around bison willy nilly. Which was no fun, but she could cope.

“Hello, Mr. Franklin, I’m Amer...lia,” she said, managing to catch herself before she slipped up. She shook his hand. “Amelia Jones.”

“Well, Miss Jones, since you are always where you need to be, would you like to accompany me to my meeting?” Mr. Franklin asked her. “It is very important and I would enjoy your company until we can find your parents.”

“Oh, I don’t have any parents,” America blurted out, walking in stride beside the man. “But I have a caretaker. Her name is Alice. But she’s in England right now, so Miss Jennifer takes care of me.”

“My condolences about your parents,” Mr. Franklin said to her, his brow furrowing at the young girl. America cocked her head to one side. People always said that to her. Why? England and Miss Jennifer were great caretakers. Weren’t parents just like caretakers? Plus, England always said that nations didn’t have parents. So America never had any to begin with.

“That’s alright,” America finally replied, deciding to ask England the next time she visited about what the difference between a caretaker and a parent was. “I don’t know anyone but Alice anyways.”

Well, that wasn’t true. She did remember wandering around in vast fields and small settlements before she’d run across Finland and, soon after, England and France.

America continued to walk next to the older man, who in truth was actually younger than her, until the two reached Albany City Hall. If America was being honest, the Hall resembled a church - a place that she was most certainly not used to being in - with a single clock tower in the corner of the shorter building.

“Mr. Franklin?” America finally spoke up, looking up at the man as they approached the building. Mr. Franklin was taking her to the center of the tugging she felt in her gut. It seemed England was right after all - she was exactly where she needed to be at the right time. “What’s so important about your meeting?”

“Well, my girl,” he began, “this is the day I am presenting a very important project of mine to some very important people. And if these people like it, then it could very well change the future of these colonies.”

Now _that_ piqued America’s interest.

“Change the future how?”

Mr. Franklin gave her a smile as the two entered City Hall. “If I can convince the men of this Congress, then it is possible that these colonies could be united underneath a single government. Something I feel we desperately need in light of the recent events in the Ohio Valley.”

“One government?” America repeated. Initially, the thought seemed absurd. Each of her colonies had always been...separate. Always working like different parts of a machine that - more often than not - were always out of sync with one another. Was a single government possible? Sustainable?

“Yes,” Mr. Franklin confirmed. “A single government, whose task is to take care of all of the colonies. That way, not one colony will ever have to act alone. United, we stand a better chance. We are stronger.”

America gave him a contemplative hum. She would be the first to admit that she didn’t know as much as she probably should’ve about the government and politics of her colonies. England always seemed to know everything about her government and always seemed to take care of her colonies as well. She’d never needed to know. Now she wished she did.

“Is that possible?”

“It is the New World, my girl,” Mr. Franklin replied, a slight twinkle in his eyes, “anything is possible.”

The hope that Mr. Franklin’s words sparked in her made the entire trip worth it. Unification. She’d never thought about it before, but now that she did it seemed like the perfect piece to complete the puzzle.

“Mr. Franklin,” a young man said, poking his head out of a nearby door. “We are about to begin.”

Mr. Franklin gave the man a nod and America could feel the tugging in her stomach disappear. It seemed she was no longer needed here and, as much as she wanted to stay, she knew that Miss Jennifer would, eventually, wake up, find her missing, and tell England. And that’s not something anybody wanted.

“This is where I must leave you, my girl,” Mr. Franklin said before she could announce her departure. “I am confident you can find your way home from here?”

“I can, Mr. Franklin. Thank you.” America turned around to leave, but then stopped, feeling that there was something left unsaid. She turned back around, seeing the other man disappearing into the room. 

“Mr. Franklin?” she called loudly. The man stopped and turned his attention back to her curiously. “I think you’re right. I think that the best action we can all take is together. So, I wish your proposal success and I hope that we meet again in a united future.”

There was a glint of curiosity that lit in Mr. Franklin’s eyes and, for a brief moment, America feared she had said something wrong.

“Thank you, young one,” he said. “Your approval brings me hope for the future.”

With that, Benjamin Franklin disappeared into the room, leaving America alone in the hallway. America, feeling that her job was done, left the Albany City Hall and began her trek back to her Virginia home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On July 10, 1754, Benjamin Franklin proposed the Albany Plan to the Albany Congress. It was the first real plan that considered uniting the American colonies, in this case to fight the French. Documents that would be based off of the Albany Plan included: Galloway’s Plan of Union (proposed to the First Continental Congress), the Articles of Confederation, and the American Constitution.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://silverphoenixwrites.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sil_phoenix), and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/silverphoenix)!


	3. The First of Many

_June 6th, 1756_

Mr. Franklin’s proposal for unification had failed not long after it had been proposed on that day, but oddly enough America didn’t feel deterred. She had a weird feeling that it wouldn’t be the last attempt. Unification felt right, in her gut, and England always told her to go with her gut. So for now, Amelia had to remain optimistic and focus on the deteriorating situation with France.

There was a different feeling in the air, a sort of underlying tension that no one around her seemed to address. Then again, she was probably the only one who could truly feel it. Miss Jennifer didn’t like talking about the fighting, at least not around her. And if she had noticed the increase in bodily injuries America was getting, then she didn’t mention it.

But America wanted to talk about it. She could feel her people dying and it felt fundamentally _wrong_. It needed to stop and it needed to stop now. Yet, no one was willing to talk to a six-year-old about the fighting, because she was a six-year-old and they had to preserve some sort of ‘innocence’ in her. Meanwhile, she dreamed of death. Innocence indeed.

The only thing that had changed was that America wasn’t allowed to go out anymore, at least not as far away as Albany. Miss Jennifer had asked her not to after her little trip - she’d woken up to a missing America and the panic had nearly driven her to a heart attack. America didn’t want to be responsible for something like that, so she stayed nearby.

“Amelia?” Miss Jennifer called from the entryway. America’s head peaked up. Maybe something was changing. Maybe there was something actually happening. Maybe America’s house arrest had finally been lifted. The colony eagerly got up from her place at the table - Shakespeare could wait - and raced to the entryway. When she got there, she could see Miss Jennifer holding a stack of letters.

America’s head cocked to the side in curiosity. Miss Jennifer pulled out a letter from the stack and held it up. “You have a letter.”

America could feel her heart race, trying not to get her hopes up but feeling them soar nonetheless. She took the letter from Miss Jennifer gingerly, almost afraid to look at the envelope for fear that it wasn’t who she thought it was from. America took a deep, calming breath and turned the envelope in her hands.

‘Miss Amelia Jones’ was written in familiar elegant handwriting and the sight of it made happiness bubble in America’s chest.

“It’s from Alice!”

Before Miss Jennifer could respond, America raced up the three stories to her room and threw herself on her bed. For several moments, she simply stared at the handwriting, making double and triple sure that it was, in fact, England’s handwriting. What was she going to say? Was she angry about what was going on? Was she concerned about America? There were so many possibilities.

America turned the envelope in her hands once again and saw that the letter was sealed firmly with England’s seal embedded in red wax. With another calming breath, America opened the letter and began reading.

“May 17th, 1756

“America,

“I’m afraid I lack the time to write as detailed a letter as I would like, so I can only hope that this one will suffice until I find the time to write again.

“Parliament and the Crown have deemed the situation in the New World sufficient enough for a declaration of war against France. Though I must admit that I hoped the fighting would die down before it reached this point, I do have to say that I am also delighted to have another go at France.

“That being said, I also would like to tell you that I will be joining the wave of reinforcements being sent to the New World now in order to oversee the war development more closely, hence my lack of time. My men are currently making the preparations for our departure and should reach the colonies no later than early August.

“Hopefully, all is well with you. I know how heavily war can weigh on us, both physically and mentally, and I pray that it hasn’t caused you too much pain. Have faith, little one, and know that help is coming.

“I will see you soon,

“England”

America sat in a stunned sort of silence, looking disbelievingly at the letter. She reread it once, twice, three times before the words began to sink in. England had declared war on France. England was at war. She was at war. The concept seemed foreign, despite the havoc it had already caused.

But then there was the second revelation. England was coming to oversee the war effort. England would be in her colonies after so long. She was going to see England. America shouldn’t have found herself as excited as she did - there was a war going on after all - but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen England in person. She’d written her letters, sure, but she hadn’t seen England in person in what felt like forever. And now England was coming. 

Was England expecting a response? Most likely, the European nation would be sailing to her by the time her letter even reached England. So she was just meant to wait then? That was okay, she could wait. 

Buzzing with excitement, America sprinted down the stairs and up to Miss Jennifer, who she found in the kitchen cooking lunch.

“Miss Jennifer, Miss Jennifer!”

“Yes, Amelia?”

“Alice is coming!”

Miss Jennifer raised an eyebrow and gave the young girl a small smile. America’s excitement was practically contagious.

“Oh really? That’s exciting,” she said slyly.

America’s eyes narrowed at her tone. Was there something she was missing? Was there some sort of catch? If America had gotten a letter, then it was highly likely that Miss Jennifer had also gotten a letter. And if Miss Jennifer had gotten a letter…

Before she could fully abort the mission and escape, Miss Jennifer caught her by the collar.

America gave her a groan as she was placed back at the table in front of her forgotten Shakespeare book. “Now let's make sure you’re keeping up with your studies, so Alice can see how far you’ve come.”

“But I don’t wanna…” America moaned pitifully.

Miss Jennifer just shook her head and pointed at the book.

She should’ve known England would make her read, even from across the ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In May of 1756, Great Britain declared war on France. It was one of the first wars in history in which there was fighting on nearly every continent around the globe. 
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://silverphoenixwrites.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sil_phoenix), and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/silverphoenix)!


	4. Commander in Chief

_August 1756_

America was practically buzzing with excitement. She couldn’t seem to sit still, no matter how much Miss Jennifer tried to calm her and she hadn’t even complained about the early wake-up call. The pure rush of excitement had quickly overcome the extreme exhaustion that would normally cause America to complain.

Today was _the day_.

England was coming.

Miss Jennifer and her were traveling to Jamestown today to meet her at the docks and America couldn’t possibly be more excited. Sure, there was a war going on and England would probably be so occupied with that to pay that much attention to her, but, for today at least, America got to spend time with England.

“Miss Jennifer! Miss Jennifer!” she squealed as the carriage pulled up in front of the house. America tore through the house to find her temporary caretaker. She found her in the kitchen packing lunch. “Miss Jennifer, the carriage is here lets gooooooooooo!”

She took Miss Jennifer’s hand in her own and began tugging the poor woman towards the front door. She barely had time to snatch the lunch package off of the counter as the overpowered six-year-old pulled her.

“Amelia!” she began to protest. But America just wasn’t listening because England was waiting for them and they had to go _now_.

The carriage ride was several hours long - a bit annoying since America knew she could travel there in minutes - but Miss Jennifer managed to keep her well entertained. She’d even managed to weasel her way out of a reading lesson to play several games of poker with Miss Jennifer, which she ended up being surprisingly good at. She didn’t understand why Miss Jennifer had seemed so surprised though, England and her played poker and chess all the time, and America always beat her. Though she had a sneaking suspicion that England let her win.

When they arrived in Jamestown, America shot out of the carriage and onto the streets, eager to get to the docks and find England. But Miss Jennifer’s lightning reflexes got to her first.

“Amelia,” Miss Jennifer began, holding onto her hand and kneeling down, “Miss Kirkland’s boat isn’t supposed to dock for another two hours.”

She tried not to let the crushing disappointment get to her, but she guessed it showed on her face anyways because Miss Jennifer gave her a soft smile and held up the lunch she’d packed.

America gasped, “I know where we can go!”

The colony drug Miss Jennifer up to the spot she’d sat and ate a peach several years before, overlooking the harbor. The two sat down, next to the young, sprouting peach tree America had planted three years before, and ate lunch. America ate eagerly, proudly showing off the tree to Miss Jennifer and watching the incoming ships like a hawk.

After what seemed like forever, America finally saw the telltale flag of an English Naval ship.

“There!” America shouted, pointing at the ship and hoping that Miss Jennifer saw it too. “There, there, there!”

America took off before Miss Jennifer could catch her, wanting to get down to the docks before the boat could dock.

The boats were ginormous up close, big, hulking things made of wood that rocked gently with the waves of the ocean and scraping the sky with their tall masts and sails that caught in the slightest breeze. If America hadn’t been in a hurry, she’d have spent more time admiring them. But for now, her main goal was finding -

“ALICE!”

As soon as the colony saw the telltale blonde hair of England, she bolted, shoving people out of the way to get to her. England - hearing her name - turned from the conversation she was having with the captain of the ship. By the time America had gotten to her, England had barely managed to open her arms and catch the young colony.

England lifted her up and twirled her around in the air with a laugh, “Hello, Amelia.”

America gave England the biggest hug she could possibly muster without breaking the other country’s neck. “I missed you!”

America felt England give her a chuckle and squeeze her back. “I missed you too, lass.”

Despite there being a war on, America couldn’t say that she’d ever felt safer.

-

_March 1757_

Several months passed by and America had been stuck to England’s side like glue. She didn’t know a lot about what was going on with the war, but she’d told England that she could help, so England let her stay.

The two nations had traveled to Philadelphia because England had told her that the man in charge of the army was there. Which America didn’t really understand because Virginia was technically the one fighting the war, not Pennsylvania, but she didn’t tell England that.

So now, America and England were in Philadelphia living with Lord Loudoun, who turned out was actually a giant jerk. She’d heard him diss her soldiers in private and that wasn’t something that America would stand for. Her people were fighting and dying the same as England’s and she didn’t understand why Loudoun was such a butt.

She’d been fuming about Loudoun and had been on her way to tell England exactly what she thought of him when she met him. America didn’t know who he was, but he was incredibly tall, dressed in the clothing of an American officer, and had the same air about him that Mr. Franklin had when she’d met him in Albany.

But it was so much more.

This man was...important didn’t even begin to describe him.

There was no way America couldn’t talk to him.

“Mister?” she began, approaching him to see conflict on his face. “Are you alright?”

The man looked surprised to see her in the hallway outside of Lord Loudoun’s office, but she didn’t blame him.

“Oh, why, hello young lady,” he began. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, Mister…”

“Washington,” the man finished for her, extending a hand to her. “Colonel George Washington of the Virginia Regiment. I’m here to meet with Lord Loudoun.”

America took the hand and shook it firmly, “Nice to meet ya, Colonel Washington, I’m Amelia Jones.”

“The pleasure is mine, Amelia.”

“Why are you here to meet with Lord Loudoun?”

“I…” Colonel Washington said. America could see he was debating whether or not to tell her the truth. “I am here to talk to him about the war, but I am afraid that he is not expecting me.”

The Colonel hadn’t told Lord Loudoun he was coming? England had always told her that was rude, but there was something in her that told her Washington was in the right.

“Plus,” he continued with a wary look to the door, “I am afraid that the failures of my past might follow me here.”

Failure of the past? America thought back, trying hard to remember if she’d met Colonel Washington before. She didn’t think so, she would’ve remembered meeting someone like George Washington. All that she knew was that Colonel Washington had to see Lord Loudoun. Without a doubt.

“Everyone makes mistakes, Colonel Washington, but what matters is how you fix it,” the colony told him. “People say that the American forces are inexperienced and that they don’t know what they’re doing, but how can we know what to do unless we train first? You can’t let failure hold you back, or otherwise you’ll just prove that the other people are right.”

Her little speech caused Colonel Washington to raise an eyebrow. “That is...very insightful for someone your age.”

The praise made America’s heart swell and she smiled proudly. 

“Alice says that I don’t understand what’s going on, and for the most part she’s right. I don’t really know if I like all of this war stuff. But you wanna know a secret, Colonel Washington?” America lowered her voice and gave a glimpse around to make sure that England wasn’t going to sneak up behind her. Washington kneeled down to her level when she switched to her whisper. “I don’t think Alice is always right. She’s trying to protect me, I know, but if she keeps doing that, then I’ll never learn how to protect myself. And to do that, I have to learn, the same as you.”

The older man gave her a soft smile, and America could see determination light in his eyes. “You are right, Miss Jones. I must embrace my failure, rather than let it hold me back.”

America gave the man a firm nod. Then she had an idea.

“Wait here,” she told the Colonel. Before he could say anything, America slipped into the room that Lord Loudoun was holding his meeting in. America, as quietly as she could, weaved her way through the tall, red-coated men to find England and, when she did, the small colony tugged at her coattails.

“Yes, what is it America?” England said after several moments of tugging.

“There’s a man outside,” America told her simply, “who wants an audience with Lord Loudoun. He’s a Colonel in the Virginia Regiment.”

Around them, a few British officers scoffed, only to be silenced with a glare from England.

“Does the Colonel have an appointment?”

“Well…” This was the tricky bit. “...no, but England…” America couldn’t help but fiddle with the braid in her hair and level England with the most serious, pleading expression she could. “He’s important. Like really important. I can feel it.”

England seemed to contemplate her words, her green eyes practically burning into the small colony.

“Please?”

Her final word seemed to have clicked something in England and she knew she’d won, even if England’s next words were exasperated. “Very well. Where is this man?”

America took England’s hand and led her out of the room, towards where she last saw Colonel Washington.

“Here!” she said victoriously, seeing that the man was still waiting outside of the room. “Alice, this is Colonel George Washington.”

At the name, England raised an eyebrow. “Washington, huh? Well, your reputation precedes you. Luckily, my charge sees it fit that you get your audience with Lord Loudoun.”

Washington gave England a small bow.

“Thank you, Lady Kirkland.”

“Follow me,” England said shortly, turning her back to the colonists and heading back into the room, not even throwing a glance behind her. Washington followed before he could fall behind.

“Good luck, Colonel!”

“Thank you, Miss Jones. I hope we meet again in the near future.”

America had a strange feeling they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In March of 1757, Colonel George Washington traveled to Philadelphia to meet with Lord Loudoun, who was in charge of the British forces in North America at the time. Lord Loudoun, who was prejudiced against American born officers, refused Washington an officer commission in the British Army.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://silverphoenixwrites.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sil_phoenix), and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/silverphoenix)!


	5. The Blood of North America

_September 8, 1760_

America’s room was scattered with an array of toys – ranging from the little stuffed rabbit laying on an unmade bed to a small army of carefully carved wooden soldiers clothed in bright red uniforms. Pieces of well-worn clothing were also strewn about everywhere on the floor, waiting patiently for their owner’s caretaker to come and pick them up, and new clothing, mostly dresses, hung untouched in the open dresser, avoided like the plague not soon after they’d been bought. Miss Jennifer and England had long given up any attempt in making America wear a dress. The small colony claimed they were uncomfortable and always seemed to get in the way when she tried climbing trees. Plus, she always added, England never wore dresses when she visited, so why should she?

England could hardly ever dispute that.

America sat in the rounded sill of a window, glancing out onto the front lawn in rare bouts of anxiousness while she fiddled with the end of her long braid. The midday light of the fading Virginia summer was streaming through the window in bright, warming beams, trying its best to lull the girl to sleep. If America wasn’t so high strung, it might’ve succeeded.

America definitely wasn’t nervous. At all. Why would she be? She had seen her sister before, maybe not talked to her as much, but they’d gotten along fine. Why would this be any different?

This time was different though.

England had told her that Canada was coming to stay. Like permanently.

America really didn’t want to think about the fact that it probably had something to do with the war she totally didn’t start. But even though England told her she was too young to understand what was happening, America understood that the war was over and that a price had been paid. She could feel it herself. Her headache was fading quickly and she could feel the relief of her people throughout the colonies, like water being given to a parched man. But there was also a hollowness that hadn’t been there before, an echo of the men who wouldn’t be returning.

Not only over, America decided solemnly, but won.

She didn’t like that hollow feeling and she hoped it wouldn’t return anytime soon.

The colony bit at her lip, a nervous habit England had scolded her for on multiple occasions, and continued to stare out the window, as if that alone would make something happen. And something did, eventually. As soon as America saw the sight of the carriage, she hopped up from her place at the window and dashed downstairs, excitement sweeping away her anxiety.

By the time America rushed down the stairs, Canada and France were already sealed inside England’s office - a large, rather intimidating room barricaded by two giant oak doors America suspected were put there to keep her out in England’s absence. All in vain, though, since a street urchin in Richmond had taught her how to pick a lock. Unfortunately, those skills weren’t very handy when people were actually in the room, so the colony opted for pressing her ear against the door in hopes of hearing the conversation going on inside.

In the end, her eavesdropping was fruitless. She didn’t even need to try considering a distraught, distinctly French-accented voice was yelling inside, “You cannot do this!”

America felt her heart plummet to her stomach. France was a jerk, but she sounded really upset...like really upset. Maybe coming downstairs hadn't been the best idea. She should’ve just stayed in her room - that would’ve probably been best. Instead, though America’s curiosity won out.

“You lost fair and square, frog, and now I’m collecting.”

The chill that ran through her glued her in her place.

It was definitely England’s voice and yet it wasn’t.

It was a voice that sent bolts of pure fear through America and caused every nerve in her body to scream DANGER. It was cold and harsh and scary and America didn’t like it at all. She whimpered before she could even think to stop it.

Then, she heard footsteps approaching the door.

Panicked, America scrambled away, frantically looking for a place to hide before England could catch her snooping. Her body moved without consent, survival instinct taking over - knowing that if she didn’t move fast enough she’d come face to face with the DANGER feeling. The colony barely managed to tuck herself behind a heavy curtain before the oak doors swung open.

England came out first, dressed to the tee in full army uniform and dragging a small Canada by the arm. France followed hotly behind, tears welling in her eyes and her desperation turning to anger, “This is cruel, even for you!”

England was absolutely terrifying. No. No, that wasn’t England. England was America’s caretaker, her mentor, the one who played with her and read her bedtime stories and gave her hugs when nightmares woke her up and wiped the tears from her eyes after she did something she told her not to. This woman, dragging a sobbing, frightened Canada behind her, was not England. Her eyes were not kind and warm, but instead a cold, steely green – merciless, terrifying.

This was the British Empire.

Hot tears filled America’s eyes at the sight and the colony wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“Mama!” a young Canada whimpered when England’s grip on her tightened. Tears streamed down her face and more threatened to spill from her violet eyes. She struggled under England’s grip, working her skin under her hand and trying desperately to escape. “MAMA!”

America couldn’t wait for either European nation to leave. Instead, she took her chance and bolted up the stairs as soon as she found an opening - she couldn’t watch anymore, she didn’t want to. As soon as she was in her room, she curled up inside of the wardrobe with her bunny clutched closely to her chest, hiding amongst the dress skirts and hoping that she’d never see an England like that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On September 8, 1760, the British took Montreal, Canada and Canada officially surrendered - though the colony wouldn’t officially be turned over till the signing of the Treaty of Paris.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://silverphoenixwrites.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sil_phoenix), and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/silverphoenix)!


	6. The French Surrender

_October 1762_

The war was over. Not officially, but functionally over. The French were leaving and...well, so was England.

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” America shouted at England in disbelief. “You can’t leave me, I need you!”

“America…”

America clung to England’s legs desperately, tears in her eyes. “Please don’t leave me.”

The other country pried her arms off gently and kneeled down to look her in the eyes. “America, dearest, please don’t be upset. I have to go back to sign France’s surrender. It’s not something I can miss.”

“Yes you can! You can stay!”

England looked at her and America could see the regret in her eyes, if she wasn’t so angry, she’d have felt bad. “You know I can’t America.”

The colony gave a whimper, “I don’t want to be alone.”

And America really, really didn’t. With everything that had happened with France, with her people recovering from war, the last thing she wanted was for the only person who actually made her feel safe to leave. Miss Jennifer was great and all, but she wasn’t England.

“You won’t be alone,” England insisted, wiping away a stray tear that had been rolling down America’s cheek. “You’ll have Canada now.”

“But we can’t even understand each other!”

It was a problem they’d run into not long after England had taken Canada from France. England had brought her in to calm Canada down after the incident and her sister had gone off in rapid-fire French. A language in which America didn’t speak.

It seemed that France hadn’t taught Canada English, much like England hadn’t taught America French. America had also discovered that, though as similar as they may be in looks, her and Canada had vastly different personalities. Canada was really quiet and timid and polite and America just...wasn’t.

That wasn’t gonna stop her from trying though.

“That is exactly why, as much as I hate it, you’re going to be learning French while Canada learns English.”

America’s only reaction was a groan. She was already taking math, English, piano, and a bunch of other stuff England had deemed necessary in her education. And now she had to take French too?

“Why can’t Canada just learn English?” she whined, stomping her foot a little and giving England a pout.

“Would you like learning a language alone without any help?”

There was a long silence while America contemplated England’s words. Then, she gave a small “No…”

“That’s what I thought,” England told her with a raised eyebrow. “You’re going to have to watch out for your sister, America, especially while I’m gone. Can you do that for me?”

England was giving her a job? To watch out for Canada? America could totally do that!

She gave England a firm, determined nod and, in return, she got a smile. 

“Very good,” England praised, rising to her full height and giving America a pat on the head. America marveled at how tall England was. She’d be that tall one day. Hopefully. “Now, I have a gift for you, but only if you promise me that you’ll be good for Miss Jennifer and make sure to study hard, okay?”

At the word ‘gift’ America perked up. “Okay…”

England gave her another smile, satisfied at the smaller girl’s answer, and reached into her coat pocket. America was practically vibrating when England pulled out the gift, wrapped in a small, velvet cloth, and handed it over.

With barely contained excitement, America unwrapped it delicately, making sure the small weight in her hand didn’t fall.

As the last of the cloth fell away, a golden pendant was unveiled and began to glint in the sunlight streaming down on them.

The pendant, shaped in the form of a five-point star, was engraved with an intricate scrollwork pattern. On the back, the words _ Audentes Fortuna Iuvat  _ were written in curvy, looping letters.

“It’s a star!” was the first thing the colony shouted, plucking the pendant from the cloth and holding it up so England could see.

The European country simply laughed, joyed to see that her gift had been well received. “And do you know what it says on the back, America?”

“Hmmmmmmm,” she began, concentrating on the words and trying to recall her Latin lessons. “Fortune...Fortune favors the brave?”

England’s smile was more than enough confirmation that she was right. Brave? Was England telling America she needed to be brave?

“That’s right,” the elder nation said, taking the delicate chain attached to the pendant and placing it around her neck. “Bravery is a good quality to have, even in the face of fear. I know my not being here is scary, and that the world is a scary place, but I know that you can be brave enough to handle anything thrown at you. Isn’t that right?”

“Of course!” she said back, her chest puffing out a little as she gave her guardian a brilliantly confident smile. The colony cradled the star to her chest, determined not to let it go.

“Goodbye, America,” England said with finality, giving her colony’s shoulder one last squeeze. “And don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Goodbye, England.”

With that, England gave her a wave and made her way to the waiting carriage.

America heaved a sigh and tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. There were so many things that she’d wanted to do, but England had left as the first opportunity - she hadn’t even gotten the chance to show her the peach tree on the hill in Jamestown.

The small colony went back inside of the house and straight upstairs to her room, passing by the dinner Miss Jennifer had placed out for her. She wasn’t hungry.

On her bedside table, America saw a copy of the book of bedtime stories that England read from while she was there, most of them about brave knights and heroes that, despite not wanting to sometimes, persevered in the face of hardship. England had been right. If America wanted to be big and strong like her mentor, she needed to study and be brave. America studied the pendant carefully and thought back on all of the things she didn’t know during the war, all the things she’d let England handle because she hadn’t been big enough or knowledgeable enough to help. She would be. Soon. She’d study her hardest and make England proud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On February 10, 1763, England and France signed the Treaty of Paris, which seceded all French colonies east of the Mississippi to the British and all colonies to the west of the Mississippi to Spain.
> 
> Find me on [Tumblr](https://silverphoenixwrites.tumblr.com/), [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sil_phoenix), and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/silverphoenix)!


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